


Beware the Guides of March

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 06:24:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair is struck with a premonition, causing him to protect his Sentinel in the only way he knows how.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beware the Guides of March

(Standard, all-purpose disclaimer) All pre-existing characters are the property of the creators and producers of "The Sentinel." No copyright infringement is intended. All new characters and situations are the sole property and responsibility of the author. 

Rated PG-13 for m/m relationship and language. 

I've got a dozen things that need doing, like finally finishing my taxes and ironing and answering email and maybe even vacuuming (at the risk of eradicating my colony of rare Bulgarian dust bunnies) but ... sometimes a pun just grabs you by the throat and demands a story be written around it. (Is this soon enough, James?) 

## Beware The Guides Of March

by Katrina Bowen

Jim picked up the basket and shook it. He turned to Blair. "Have you seen my keys?" 

Blair stared at the newspaper. "Your keys? You mean the keys to the truck?" He turned the page and didn't look at Jim. 

"Yeah, the keys to the truck... have you seen them?" 

"Not recently, no. Maybe you left them in your jacket." Blair drank some of his tea and went back to staring at the paper. 

"No, I looked there already." Jim started emptying the basket. Fishing something out gingerly, he looked over at Blair. "Is there a reason we're keeping a kazoo in here?" 

Blair shrugged. "You never know when you might need one." He stood up and carried his dishes to the sink. 

"Right... are you missing an earring?" 

"No, I don't think so." Blair came over to Jim and looked at the small ring held out for his inspection; with a grin, he took it from the bigger man's hand. "Oh, hey, that's where that went. I better get this back in before the hole closes up," he said as he unbuttoned his shirt. 

Jim watched as Blair replaced the nipple ring. "How did *that* get there -- oh, yeah, Tuesday night. Oh, and here's the lube. I thought we were out." Shaking his head, he went back to sorting through the basket. "You're *sure* you haven't seen my keys, Chief?" 

"Sorry. Can't help you, Jim." Not bothering to rebutton his shirt, Blair went over to the couch and settled himself in the corner, sitting cross-legged and reaching for his laptop. 

"Don't go to any trouble on my account, Sandburg. I'll just use my spare keys." Jim went upstairs. In a minute or so he came back down slowly. Blair watched him out of the corner of his eye, but didn't look up even when Jim stopped right in front of him. 

"Damndest thing, Chief. My spare keys are missing, too." 

"Huh." Blair stared at the screen. "Not like you to lose things." He typed in a few words. Not quite looking at Jim, he went on, "Guess you'll have to call in late." 

"I could do that." Jim braced one arm on the back of the couch and leaned over Blair. "On the other hand, you could just tell me what you did with the keys." 

Blair looked up, his face a mask of wounded innocence. "You think I lost your keys?" 

Jim's expression didn't change. "No. I think you *hid* my keys. There's a difference." 

"Jim!" Blair stared up, looking even more wounded, but he made no attempt to get off the couch. "I hope you have a good reason for accusing me." 

Without a word, Jim scooped Blair up, computer and all, and deposited him on the other end of the couch. Ignoring the other's startled "Shit!", he reached behind the cushions and extracted both sets of keys. Putting them in his pocket, he folded his arms and turned to Blair, who had set aside his computer. "You're the one who called me a human lie detector, Chief. Besides, I smelled the metal of the keys." 

Blair looked fascinated. "You could smell the keys? Geez, we should set up some tests, how many kinds of metal you can distinguish by smell..." 

"Sandburg -- not now. You probably have a good explanation for this, right?" 

Blair scratched the end of his nose. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Well, yeah... but I knew if I told you, you'd get angry." 

Jim stared down at him. "Actually, Blair, I'm angry anyway. I don't see where you're ahead on this one." 

"Good point. Okay, I'll tell you, but you have to promise to hear me out." Jim just raised an eyebrow. Deciding that was the best he was likely to get, Blair forged ahead. "I had a dream last night, and I didn't want you to drive to work today." 

"That's it?" Jim stared at the wall over Blair's head, then brought his unflinching gaze back to his partner's face. "You had a dream. So you're not just a guide now, you're a prophet?" 

Blair pointed a finger at Jim. "See, I knew that would be your reaction. That's why I didn't tell you. You know, man, if you were more reasonable about these things --" 

"Reasonable?" Jim glared down at Blair. "What the hell is reasonable about this whole situation? How reasonable am I supposed to be about this?" 

The phone rang; with a final scowl at Blair, Jim went to answer it. "Ellison. Yeah, Simon, I'm going to be a little late. It seems --" Jim's face went blank. "What?" He listened for a few minutes; alarmed, Blair got off the couch and walked over to him. "Yeah. Thanks. I'll wait here for the tow truck and the lab boys. Yeah. I'll see you later then." Hanging up, he went over to the couch and sat down. 

Blair followed. "Well?" 

"Hmmm?" Jim looked up. "Oh. That was Simon." 

"Yeah? And?" Blair was almost vibrating with excitement. 

Now it was Jim's turn to avoid the other's gaze. "You remember the the arson case we were working on last week, the guy we arrested? They pulled in his brother for a traffic violation a couple hours ago. Seems he panicked while they were questioning him and, um, he seems to have confessed to tampering with the brakes of my truck. Simon was just calling to make sure I hadn't left yet--" 

"YES!" Blair punched a triumphant fist in the air. "Score one for Prophet Boy!" 

Looking vaguely disgruntled, Jim looked at him. "You're not going to let me forget this, are you?" 

"Hell, no," Blair laughed. He put his fingers to his temples and feigned a transcendent expression. "Oh, wait, wait, something else is coming through. I see... I see... whoa, I see you being definitely grateful. Yep. We're talking *real* appreciation here. Oh, yeah, this is going to be fun. Good thing we found the lube." 

"Shut up and get over here." Jim put his arms around Blair's waist and pulled him against his chest. "You know, we have a few minutes before the tow truck and the officers get here..." He brushed Blair's shirt aside and fastened his teeth around the nipple ring. 

Blair gasped and clutched at Jim's shoulders. "Yeah, I can see it coming now...."   
  


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